


seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind

by a_mind_at_work (Madame_Marauder)



Series: this whole damn city [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Character Motivations, Other, Revolution, Wash and Franklin are like those concerningly codependent but scarily in-sync bffs, actual major plot points and answers, dont let the grandmas or wordcount fool you, you fuck with grandma and you pay the price bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:56:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Marauder/pseuds/a_mind_at_work
Summary: Everyone has a reason for their actions.Here are three.





	seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind

    Okay.

    Alexander will admit it. He's frightened. Not of the situation, no, nor of the people he's speaking with. But anything that can make Herc this still and quiet and serious- well. It's hard not to be intimidated.

    Washington is looking at him across the holovid connection with something approaching concern, but Franklin is leaned back in his chair in the background, feet propped up on the table. “He'll be fine, George. He can handle it. Look at the kid; it's just gonna make him burn brighter. God knows that's what it did to me.”

    The other man still hesitates, but shakes his head. “Alright. You're right. Alexander, I'm streaming it to you now.”

     He nods, blood roaring in his ears. This is the secret that's changed so many lives, the reason that this resistance exists, the thing that started this fight. There's a chance it won't mean as much to him; he's a scrappy bastard from Purple who's here for other reasons. But this was someone else's spark, and discovering that is exciting in and of itself.

      A holovid replaces the image of the resistance’s leaders, old and grainy with age. _“January 4, 2175,”_ says a middle-aged woman. Alexander studies her closely. She has painfully familiar eyes, nearly two and a half centuries before the person he'd known to have those same eyes was born. _“The conditions levied against the scientific level are evermore strenuous and ridiculous. Those on the upper levels of history and politics would see all progress stopped, and the limited resources of the City claimed for themselves. I fear that these most essential levels will be abandoned, or worse, turned into slums. Science is the basis of this city, as has been symbolically shown in setting it as the literal base of the City. Logistically, this puts us near the generators, as logic would dictate we ought to be placed. But I fear what is brewing in the upper half. I fear that they will seize power for themselves. I fear that all the bright minds will be locked away in the violet glow of our soon-to-be-former sanctuary. To my posterity, to my children- remember what Purple used to be.”_ Crashes and shouts in the background. Her voice gets higher with fear. _“Remember we were meant to be the forerunners of innovation and progress.”_ Pounding at her door. _“And for God's sake, remember that we were supposed to venture ou-”_

      The vid cuts out.

      Washington's face reappears, Franklin actually standing beside him now. It's not until the first looks at him worriedly that Alexander realizes there are tears of helpless rage streaming down his face, and that his hands are curled into fists.

      “You mean to tell me,” he all but growls, “that all my life, all the years of pain and poverty and suffering and sorrow that my family and I have endured, that our home was meant to be a place of learning and discovery and improvement?”

      Franklin steps forward, eyes lit with the same fury that Alexander feels roaring inside, though for a different reason. It's easy to see, at the calm center of the hurricane of his thoughts and emotions. Washington cares most about the human side of things, the people themselves who currently are suffering. Franklin is enraged that anyone, but especially the brightest minds, would be extinguished so blatantly, that there were hundreds of years of progress and knowledge that were lost.

      Alexander-

      Well.

      “You see it,” Franklin says. “You understand how much we lost, how much better we could have been. All of us. The technology, the medicine, the groundbreaking experiments- gone. And thousands of lives, ruined. No chance at a legacy. No time to make a mark. No opportunity to truly live.”

      Ah, yes. Franklin speaks his language.

      “Hundreds of people still suffering. Starving. Sickly. Dying,” Washington adds quietly, like he still can't seem to believe it at times. For someone who grew up so high in the Upper levels, he probably can't. “All of them deserve as good a life as anyone else.”

      And as far as speaking his language, it seems that Washington is understandably fluent, too.

      “What was her name?” he rasps. His voice is broken. Neither seem ready to judge him for it, and that's a small mercy.

      Washington hesitates. “There's other videos with her in them. Before this one, obviously.”

      “Her _name_.”

      The older man spreads his hands helplessly. “We're not sure. Based on the admittedly faded handwriting on the recorder, we're going to say Mary Uppington. Or Uppingham, quite possibly.”

      Oh.

      Repeated names were a beautiful way to honor someone important in the family who you lost. And, of course, last names stayed with you unless you took on a spouse's, or changed it yourself. It wasn't hard to imagine.

      The original Mary Uppington had had a child. Who had a child. Who had a child. Who had a child. Who had a child. Who had a child. Who had a daughter. Who had a daughter. Who had two sons.

      Easy enough to follow. Easy enough to understand.

      Washington reads some discovery in his face- or, ha, in his eyes- and nods slowly. “Now you know.”

      “Now I know,” Alexander agrees. A bone-deep fury settles into place somewhere deep inside him. It's something he's felt before, but only for a blazing, white-hot moment. This… this is a more patient beast. Determined. Bitter. Willing to work and wait for its revenge.

      This is what had been done to his people.

      This is what had been done to his _family._

      It's right there on the recording to see. His grandmother, generations back but his grandmother nonetheless, killed by someone in a distinctive red coat. Very few people owned those jackets, and the few who did were members of the strike teams. That, at least, has not changed over the decades.

     “How many other videos of her are there?” Alexander hears himself ask. “Or from the same time? And where were these recorded?”

     Franklin smiles, just slightly. “Twelve, all in total. Two other with her, nine of other researchers at similar points in time. My best guess is that they received word that they would be silenced soon, and took the chance to speak out while they could. They appear to have been recorded in their homes, or in their offices.”

     He nods, the bone-deep rage settling back to somewhere less prominent. It's still there, thrumming under his skin, ready and quick to surface should he need to draw from it. But for the moment, it is ready to lie in wait. The Redcoats better watch their fucking step- because eventually, they will stumble, and he will be ready.

    Or rather, he corrects himself, thinking about smugglers with bright grins and brothers with pain in their eyes and sisters with hollow cheeks,  _they_ will be ready.

     “How much do you know about what's going around on the black market? I get the feeling that you would find some of the things that the Reds tend to invest in… _interesting,_ to say the least.”

     Washington raises an eyebrow. Franklin smirks. “Told you so.”

**Author's Note:**

> TADA THERES THE BIG FUCKING REVEAL IM SORRY IF IT DIDN'T MAKE SENSE IM VERY TIRED. MAYBE THIS WILL BE REVISED WHEN IM FUNCTIONING AT A LATER POINT BUT HONESLY WHO KNOWS
> 
> I PROMISE I WILL GET TO ANGELICA'S CHAPTER SOON THE IDEA JUST WOULDN'T LEAVE ME ALONE
> 
> my main tumblr: @discount-satan  
> my writing tumblr: @littlelionroar
> 
> kudos and comments are pretty lit
> 
> i need sleep


End file.
